The Emptiness Inside
by Wynjamor
Summary: How Frodo realised where his heart belongs...Complete, i think.
1. Aching

Disclaimer: Frodo is the property of Tolkien, etc, no copyright infringement intended.  
  
Scene: How Frodo decided where his heart belonged.  
  
Unrealised Dreams  
  
Frodo Baggins whistled an old tune as he made his way through the trees that bordered the lane towards Bag End. His feet made no sound on the soft summer grass, and the stick he carried brushed the colourful flowers gently aside as he passed.  
  
It was more than a year since he'd returned from Mordor, and he already knew deep inside that he'd leave The Shire before long. His work on the Red Book was progressing well - he might finish before the end of the year and then he could pass the book on to Sam, to add his story.  
  
The tune changed without Frodo noticing. It went from a light walking tune to a lonely one, that brought up images of leaving things behind. Frodo shuddered imperceptibly and stopped whistling. Although the sun was warm on his back, he felt a cold chill in his neck where he'd received the wound from Shelob so long ago.  
  
Frodo was now come to a small stream that ran through the woods. He'd been coming to this place for as long as he could remember; every time he wanted to lie on the grass and look through the multi-coloured canopy at the shifting sky above; every time he wanted to think things through, or just every time he needed to be alone. Right now he needed to be alone.  
  
Stooping down at the water's edge, he dropped his stick and picked up a small stone, throwing it out into the wide pool that gathered here in a natural depression in the forest floor. It sank beneath the water with a splash, and Frodo's eyes followed the ripples as they fanned out, eventually reaching the bank beneath his feet. Gandalf had said that you could see a lot if you knew where to look for it, and now, looking at his own reflection in the water, Frodo saw not the youthful Hobbit staring back at him, but an ageing one who'd given life a good go but had grown tired of it.  
  
Frodo had friends around him, and he considered Sam and Rosie to be family, but there was something in him that wasn't content, and hadn't been since he'd come back to The Shire. Before his Quest, he'd been happy taking walks in the countryside, conversing with the odd Elf that strayed in these parts, eating and drinking and making merry with other Hobbits, and he'd taken joy in being alive.  
  
He still was thankful to be alive...most of the time. When his old wounds were paining him, which was often now, or when he looked at the unconcerned faces of those around him, he felt dissatisfied. He remembered all that he'd been through, and how no one, not even Sam, knew about his inner turmoil.  
  
Middle Earth no longer held the simple joys it used to. Now everywhere he looked he saw the pain and death of Galadriel's mirror, behind all the smiles and laughter.  
  
The worst thing was, Frodo knew it was inside himself that he felt this pain. He felt the evil of The Ring still lingered on his skin and in his mind, even though it never came forth to affect him visibly. Perhaps he was getting paranoid, but he felt that there was nothing for him here. Nothing to fill the gaping hole that grew within him every day.  
  
The reflection in the pool blinked, and pulled back to stand looking out across the water. Frodo did the same, and watched as a green leaf, disturbed by some woodland creature, came floating gracefully down on an unseen breeze, brushing his face as lightly as a feather.  
  
Frodo was so entranced by the leaf he didn't see the horse until it was too late. It's hooves muffled by the soft earth, it bolted out of the trees to the right of Frodo without him hearing it. With an ear-piercing neigh it reared up, and Frodo's head snapped up in surprise even as he instinctively leapt back to defend himself against the frightened creature.  
  
Leapt back, straight into the pool.  
  
A/N: Finally a Frodo fic! What do you think so far? No flames please! 


	2. A Vision

Disclaimer: No copyright infringement is intended, fic is for fun.  
  
Scene: How Frodo realised where his heart belonged.  
  
A Vision  
  
A great splash went up, and the water foamed as Frodo's arms flailed out to cut through the waves surging over him. A rush filled his ears, and a part of him realised it was the sound of his own blood thundering through his veins.  
  
The hobbit had shut his eyes instinctively, but now, as the water settled back, and he stopped moving downwards, he opened them, to see the stream of bubbles marking his path down, and the deep blueness all around.  
  
Looking up, he could see the dappled pattern the filtered sunlight cast on the surface of the stream. It was far above him, which meant the pool was deeper than he'd thought. A lot deeper in fact. Didn't he remember swimming in here as a youngster? And diving to the bottom which was only a few feet away to pick up stones? And what was that shadow moving towards him?!  
  
He opened his mouth to take in a breath, and only just stopped in time to prevent himself sucking in water. The shadow seemed to flow up from out of the darkness to either side of him, and before his eyes it swirled into an almost human shape. Two arms grew from the centre of the mass, and a head twisted up, features forming as Frodo stared in a mixture of horror and amazement.  
  
The eyes of the thing were blacker than black, blacker even than the rest of the creature. They fixed Frodo was a calm stare, and he felt compelled to look into them.  
  
His world was filled with silence. Even his heartbeat was drowned out by the overwhelming lack of noise. He could see only the deep pits of the Being's eyes, shining darker somehow, the longer he looked, until it was almost painful.  
  
Gradually, Frodo began to see shapes moving in the blackness that filled his vision. They were only shadows, but in his mind's eye they became people and objects, valleys and mountains, until his mind was painted with wonderful colours and images of beauty and splendour. A golden tree stood next to a silver tree in an open courtyard, and shining leaves grew on their shimmering branches. A hill stood, looking out over a coastline, and on this a greater tree reached up to the heavens. The thing in the water was trying to show him something.  
  
What is it? Where is this? Frodo asked, his mind forming the words his mouth could not. He desperately wanted to be a part of the wonder of this place. Just seeing it, his heart was filled with a hope he hadn't felt since coming into possession of The Ring.  
  
The scene shifted. This time he could see havens, in which stood a magnificent ship. Its sails were the purest white, and they stood against a sky which blazed red with the departing sun. Sea-birds wheeled and cried over the waves, which broke in a mass of foam on the shore. Deep inside, Frodo felt something pulling him there. With all his heart he wanted to step onto that ship, because he knew it would take him to the place with the gleaming trees and the serenely joyful people who danced beneath them.  
  
Suddenly the images vanished, and Frodo found himself blinking heavily as if ridding his eyes of sleep. The dark shadow being was gone, and the water was the clearest blue. The surface was some two feet above, and Frodo's lungs were burning. He kicked off from the bottom and was relieved when his head found free air, and he was able to take a deep breath.  
  
The air was sweet and warm, and the water was refreshingly cool as Frodo swam slowly to the bank. He pulled himself out of the water and looked around for the horse which had startled him. It was nowhere in sight, and its hooves couldn't be heard, no matter how hard he strained his ears.  
  
Frodo lay back on the grass, letting the green-filtered sunlight dry his clothes and hair. He watched the gently swaying leaves, and knew that this was one of the last days he'd spend in Middle-Earth. The aching inside him had gone, and he knew that the empty space in his heart would soon be filled by the place he'd just seen, and the beauty it held.  
  
He knew something which few of Middle-Earth ever know. He knew with a certainty so strong it was rare, that the Undying Land of ancient myth could be reached by him. He knew that he had to say goodbye to all the people he loved, and all the things he loved, until he could leave knowing that he'd enjoyed The Shire as much as any Hobbit might. He knew that all he had to do was to board the Elven ship, and let it take him over the sea.  
  
After a little while, Frodo stood, dusted himself off, and looked out over the stream to the where the forest stretched out as it had done for thousands of years. He raised his hand in a salute to all the trees and woodland creatures, to all the things he'd known and would never know. After whispering goodbye, he turned for home.  
  
The trees rustled in farewell as he passed.  
  
A/N: I don't think this needs another chapter, but if you have any suggestions, please tell me! This was a little exploration piece into feelings, and I'd appreciate knowing what you think of it! 


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